Singapore Sling
by eigna
Summary: She couldn’t get away from him even when she tried. My take on 3x18. HouseCuddy
1. Chapter 1

Title: "Singapore Sling" (1/?)  
Author: Angie  
Pairing: House/Cuddy  
Spoilers: Up to 3x18. My take on their time together in Singapore.  
Rating: NC-17 (this part is PG, I suppose)  
Disclaimer: They're not mine. If they were, we'd actually get all this on the show!  
A/N: This one will be a bit different than my previous pieces. First of all because it will be a multi-chapter story, something I haven't done in quite a few years. Second because it's a step away from my usual angsty stuff. Hope you'll enjoy the ride:) Huge thanks to Lil for enthusiastic encouragement and to Mary for cracking out the whip! Wouldn't be able to get through this without either of you. 3 All mistakes are completely my own.  
Summary: She couldn't get away from him even when she tried.

Part 1/?

As she quickly made her way through the airport, passport and ticket in one hand, carry-on bag in the other, Lisa Cuddy felt a sense of freedom she hadn't felt in a very long time. The high heels that usually adorned her feet were packed far down in her checked suitcase, along with only a few of her power suits, probably already in the luggage compartment of the plane. Instead she wore plain white and red sneakers, a privilege generally reserved for the rare weekend off or the runs that kept her sane, and with every step she took, her feet were questioning why they weren't allowed this experience more often.

Even a simple thing like wearing jeans felt like luxury to her, which is why she always made sure she traveled in them. She loved the way they clung to her, flattering her figure but allowing her freedom of movement the way suits didn't, and making her feel young in a way suits never would. She had to admit she was at times somewhat jealous of House and his indifference to – or rather his complete disrespect of – her claims that his choice of work attire completely went against the hospital dress code. He always shot back that her own choice of clothes hardly went hand in hand with the dress code either, but she could effectively shut him up by saying she could start wearing turtle necks every day if her wardrobe bothered him that much.

She allowed a small smile to curve her lips before she mentally shook her head at where her thoughts were drifting. Even away from the hospital – away from _him_ - he somehow always managed to sneak into her thoughts one way or another. It was disturbingly pleasant, more so than she actually cared to admit even to herself. It was also something she had long ago stopped trying to understand; certain things were better left alone.

She desperately needed this time away; she'd needed it for a long time. The past few months had taken their toll on her; unsuccessful implantations, miscarriage, House's rehab, House's trial, failed dates, and more sleepless nights than she could count. It had all piled up somewhere deep inside her until she felt as if she was constantly suffocating underneath the polished surface she presented to the rest of the world on a daily basis.

She'd been hesitant to leave the hospital behind when the opportunity of flying to Singapore for a medical conference had first appeared. It was Wilson who had ultimately convinced her to go, after first reminding her that she hadn't had more than two days off in a row in over three years, and then cleverly pointing out that if she granted House his recently demanded vacation time, he'd be away from the hospital during the same time frame, which would in turn allow her to go away without constantly having to worry about House turning her hospital upside down in her wake.

That had been the final selling point.

In reality, this conference was nothing other than a well-constructed excuse for her to get away. Two days of actual business – the reason seventy percent of her suits were still hanging neatly in her closet at home – and seven more days of hopefully nothing but relaxation. The hospital would survive without her; Wilson had repeatedly told her this, and she knew he was right, especially now that she didn't have a certain doctor to worry about.

After maneuvering her way through the airport for what seemed like an eternity, Cuddy finally reached her gate, placing herself in line with the rest of the passengers waiting to be allowed onboard. The line moved along faster than she'd expected – after all, there were benefits to flying first class – and before she knew it, she was on the plane, being greeted by a young flight attendant, who checked her ticket and passport one final time.

"Welcome onboard, Dr. Cuddy." The younger woman gave her a professional smile and pointed up the aisle of the airplane. "Your seat is 1A; first class is right up here to your left and your travel companion has already been seated. Please enjoy your flight, and don't hesitate to use the call button if you need anything."

The words 'travel companion' didn't truly register with her until she was already walking up the aisle to her seat. The familiar sound of his voice filtered through before she even reached him. She shouldn't have been surprised. In fact, this was right up his ally; she probably even should have expected it. That didn't stop her from doing what she seemed to be doing most when he was in her presence, though: she yelled at him.

"What the _hell_ are you doing here?"

House turned his attention from the stewardess in front of him and looked up at her from his aisle seat. He had the audacity to greet her with fake innocence plastered all over his face, a small grin playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Cuddles," he exclaimed, using the nickname he knew she hated more than anything, "there you are! I thought you'd never get here! I was starting to worry you might miss the flight." He watched her with playful eyes, impressed by the way she managed to glare at him, her hands perched perfectly on her hips, while still holding on to ticket, passport and carry-on. The woman definitely had skills.

Cuddy, on the other hand, was anything but amused or impressed. "House," she said through gritted teeth. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "What. Are. You. Doing. Here?"

"I told you I needed a vacation," he said, as if that explained everything. "You authorized it, you should know."

"How does that explain you and me suddenly finding ourselves on the same plane?"

Fake innocence turned into equally fake confusion. "You said you'd prefer it if we were away from the hospital at the same time, because otherwise you wouldn't be able to keep an eye on me, and I'd inevitably get myself and your hospital into trouble," he recited her own words back to her.

"And how does _that_ transfer into you being _here_?"

"Well, now we're both away from the hospital at the same time _and_ you can keep on eye on me."

He looked so damn pleased himself she felt the sudden urge to whack him over the head. Knowing House, though, he would probably enjoy it, and she wasn't about to give him that satisfaction. Instead she briskly put her things in the overhead compartment, ignoring his eyes on her stomach as she stretched and her shirt rode up, and then climbed over his outstretched legs to her own seat by the window, smiling just a little bit when she 'accidentally' kicked him in the shin.

This was definitely not what she had planned for her time away, and yet she wasn't nearly as agitated to see him as she would've thought she'd be. That realization was even more unnerving.

"How did you get on the plane so quickly, anyway?" she asked as she plopped down next to him, the irritation in her voice slowly dissipating. "I didn't see you in the line."

He twisted in his seat to look at her, while at the same time leaning down to rub his leg where her foot had hit him. "Bum leg, remember? Some people actually seem to think that should give me some privileges," he said, rubbing a bit more for extra effect.

His words held no real accusation, though, and she didn't take them as one. "You got your damn parking space back," she shot back, and a small smile tugged at her lips. "Shut up and be happy."

"Always so bossy," he smirked. "I thought this trip was supposed to make you more relaxed."

"Yes, but _someone_," she stared pointedly at him, "seems determined to not make that happen." She sighed as he merely leered suggestively at her. "How did you even know which flight I'd be on?"

"Cuddy, you can't fool me," he said in that low voice that always seemed to get her. "If you really wanted to keep your travel plans a secret from me, you would've changed your password."

"You hacked into my computer again." It was more a statement than a question, and she couldn't even be bothered with giving him an incredulous look. Had she ever expected him to stay out of her personal business?

He simply shrugged and leaned back in his seat, and once again her fingers itched to wipe that satisfied grin off his face.

"Your shirt is hideously ugly, by the way," she said, throwing a quick glance at him. "I'm not showing myself in public with you wearing that thing."

"What, this?" House looked down at his shirt that was indeed sporting a rather ghastly pattern in bright colors. It was practically screaming 'tourist'. "I kinda think it brings out the color of my eyes, don't you think?" He fluttered his eyelashes at her, and she actually had to keep herself from laughing out loud. He paused for a beat, looking thoughtful. "I guess I could take it off if you really wanna see me half naked that badly, though."

She rolled her eyes at him, fastening her seatbelt. "Shut up, House."

TBC.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry it's taken so long! The fact that I'm one of the slowest writers out there (if not _the_ slowest) combined with the fact that my muse suddenly decided to run off to Maui without me made this part take even longer to finish than I thought it would. It _is_ longer than the first part, though, if that's any consolation. ;) Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews on the first part! Hope this one is to your liking as well. :)

Part 2/?

Five hours into the flight, House was bored out of his mind.

Truth to be told, he'd been bored after thirty minutes. Cuddy had stared blankly at him and told him to entertain himself, at which he'd winked at her with a perfectly mastered 'come hither' look on his face. Her only response had been to roll her eyes in a very Cuddy-like manner, but at least he'd gotten some entertainment out of annoying her.

That was until forty minutes later, when Cuddy suddenly decided to pull her seat back and nod off right in the middle of his long rant about why clinic duty was bad for him, and his boredom had been complete. Even the simple – although not insignificant – pleasure of looking down Cuddy's shirt as she turned in her sleep had been taken away from him when she'd woken up for a mere half minute to ask the stewardess for a blanket, claiming that the cabin was too cold. With innocence plastered on his face, he'd offered to warm her up himself, but she'd merely scowled at him and pulled the blanket up to her chin, drifting off back to sleep.

And with that, his fun had been over; she had effectively covered herself up from not only the supposedly cold air, but also from his roaming eyes. He wouldn't be surprised if she'd felt his gaze on her even in sleep – there were times he was certain she was aware of everything going on around her no matter what she was doing at the time – and he still wasn't sure she hadn't done it just to spite him, because the cabin certainly felt warm enough to him. Either way, the outcome was still the same: the funbag matinee was over.

Yes, House was definitely bored.

Grabbing his iPod out of his shirt pocket, he pressed the menu button repeatedly, hoping for a small miracle. His attempts were futile; the battery had died on him hours earlier. The screen lit up for only half a second before he was once again left staring at complete blankness, and he cursed himself for not charging the battery properly before leaving for the airport.

House sighed and twisted in his seat, groping his jeans pocket for the familiar pill bottle and popped it open, throwing his head back and dry-swallowing a pill. The sound made Cuddy stir slightly next to him, and he turned to look at her. Watching her intently, he put his hand with the pill bottle still in it right next to her ear, and opened and closed it again with more force than necessary, making loud popping sounds. A small frown creased her forehead, but much to his dismay, her eyes remained closed, her breathing still even.

He frowned back at her even though he realized she couldn't actually see it, but his rather pitiful frown didn't rouse her from her sleep. Sighing again, he gave up and put the bottle back where it belonged, and instead switched on the small TV screen in front of him again. Despite the multiple choices provided, he wasn't able to find anything worthy of his attention. All chick flicks, or movies he'd already seen and couldn't be bothered re-watching, or movies he wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. Even a fully covered and sleeping Cuddy was more fun to watch than that.

"Don't they show porn on this damn plane…?" he muttered to no one in particular.

"God, I can't take you anywhere, can I…?" she murmured softly without opening her eyes, but he could practically see her rolling them at him behind her closed eyelids. At least it proved that she wasn't quite as asleep as she would've liked him to think. Or maybe she had simply developed a sixth sense to his inappropriate words throughout the years.

"Well," he began, childishly pleased to have his sparring partner back, although he was hardly about to tell her so, "you didn't actually _take_ me anywhere, I –"

"Yes," she interrupted quickly, "and for your own good you'd do wisely in not reminding me of that fact."

"Ooh. Testy."

She wasn't able to hide the tiny smile on her lips, despite her apparent efforts to do so, and he grinned to himself.

"Would you just stop fidgeting?" was the only thing she said in reply, turning a bit in her seat so that she was fully facing him. "You keep waking me up."

He realized her eyes were still closed, meaning she had every intention of going back to sleep again. "Well, if you'd just _stay_ awake and entertain me, I wouldn't have to," he said, making sure the pout on his lips was fully reflected in his voice.

"What are you, five?" She buried her face deeper into the pillow, trying to ignore him, squishing her nose in a way he found disturbingly cute.

"Come ooon, Cuddy." He decided to change his tactics. Pulling the lever on his seat, he pushed it back until he was practically lying down beside her. "There _has_ to be something more fun than _sleeping_ to do on this plane." He lowered his voice conspiratorially, leaning into an almost whisper into her ear. "You _know_ you wanna get nasty right here and now. Why do you think we're able to lie down in these seats?"

He tugged a bit on her blanket, and she finally opened her eyes and looked at him. She watched him in complete silence for a few moments, as if trying to read him, and he suddenly found himself taken aback at the seductive glint appearing in her eyes.

"Okay," she sighed, holding the blanket away from her body in a clear invitation, and the seductiveness had found its way to her voice as well. "Come on then."

He hesitated for just a second.

One short, damn second.

The fact that he wanted her was something he was painfully aware of. He was a man, she was a gorgeous woman. One plus one equals two backs on the beast. The deeper reason of _why_ he wanted her and why he constantly shied away the second she gave back as good as she got was something he still actively avoided thinking about. But here he'd had his chance, whether it was real or not, and he'd hesitated, and that wavering second had been one second too long.

She covered herself up again, raising her eyebrows at him.

"Too slow, House," she said with a smile, biting down a little on her full bottom lip, and he couldn't decide whether that was disappointment he heard laced through the playfulness in her voice or not. "I knew you were all talk."

He stared at her. Now and then, there were times when Cuddy beat him heavily at his own game. This was definitely one of those moments, and even through his astonishment he had to appreciate that, and he shot her an acknowledging grin: a grin she returned, knowing full well she had just won this round.

"I'm _bored_!" he finally exclaimed, raising his seat into a sitting position again.

"No _really_?" she said with big eyes and mock surprise. "I never would've guessed."

A full-fledged pout found its way onto his face again, and this time she was fully awake to see it.

"House," she sighed, as if talking to a child, but his pout only grew bigger, and she finally gave in. "_Fine_. I suppose I need to look over my speech anyway."

She pulled the lever on her seat until she was sitting upright next to him, ignoring the pleased look on his face, but that didn't stop him from grinning victoriously at her.

"Can't you just watch your iPod or something? I'm fairly certain you have more than enough porn on there," she shot at him, only half-jokingly.

"The batteries died," he said seriously.

"Oh."

"Can I borrow yours?"

She shot him an incredulous look, trying to decipher whether or not he was being completely serious. "Sure. Fine." She shook her head slightly. "Whatever."

She stopped the passing stewardess, asking her to take her bag down from the overhead compartment, and pulled out her laptop for herself and the iPod for House.

"You do realize there's no porn on this, no matter how hard you look for it, right?" she said as she handed it to him.

"Oh, that's fine," he said, taking it from her and putting the earphones in his ears. "I'm sure I'll find enough entertainment in making fun of your no doubt horrible taste in music."

And with that he leaned back in his seat, the satisfied grin still plastered on his face, hitting the menu button, scrolling through his choices. Suddenly he looked up at her in disbelief.

"AC/DC, Cuddy? Seriously?"

She frowned at him. "What the hell is wrong with AC/DC?"

"Oh… nothing", he said airily. "Just never really pictured you as the rocker chick, I suppose. Although…" He let his eyes roam appreciatively over her slim form in a way that would've made her blush had she not been used to it already. "I suppose the thought of you in a complete leather outfit isn't _completely_ unbearable."

"I can take that iPod back any second, House." The warning tone of her voice was not lost on him.

"Fine." He raised his hands defensively as she glowered at him, but even through the blazing look she gave him, he could tell she wasn't completely unflattered by his words, and that was enough for now.

Resting back against his seat, he made sure the sound was turned all the way up, possible eardrum damage be damned, before letting the familiar notes of "You Shook Me All Night Long" blast loudly through the headphones, pleased when she shot him a disgusted look at his eyebrows waggling in beat with the music.

"In your dreams, House," she mouthed at him, purposefully ignoring him and his teasing look as she turned to her laptop.

Five hours later they'd made it through the airplane dinner, which for once didn't taste horrible – he needed to fly first class more often – and House had finally worn out Cuddy's batteries as well. He wished that thought was as dirty as it sounded in his own head; it would undoubtedly had made the flight a whole lot more interesting.

Ever since Cuddy had decided to stay awake, though, the flight hadn't been a complete snooze. Her laptop had been put away rather quickly after she'd decided her speech didn't need yet another readthrough, and as she was sipping her fifth complimentary Singapore Sling, House had come to the conclusion that a slightly intoxicated Cuddy wasn't really half-bad. Personally he had never truly been into the sweet stuff and settled for simply stealing a sip every now and then from her drinks. Strangely enough, she let him.

"So whatever happened to Bill?" he asked in a deliberately flippant way as he grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand holding the drink up to his lips for yet another taste.

"Bob," she corrected him, automatically tipping the glass so he could take his sip.

"Whatever."

"We didn't… click," she said hesitantly, and the mere fact that she seemed reluctant to talk about it only made him all the more interested. Cuddy knew this, cursed herself inwardly for it, but knew that he would see right through her anyway if she flat out lied. "We… weren't compatible after all."

"He _dumped_ you?" he said disbelievingly. "Why?"

"Do we really have to talk about this?"

"Yes."

"No, we don't." She pulled her drink back from him, effectively putting an end to this particular subject, even though she _knew_ this wouldn't be the last she'd hear of it.

She set the glass down between them, suddenly getting up, nudging his leg a bit with her foot.

"Move, I need to go to the bathroom."

House being House made no move to make it any easier for her, and again made her climb over him. His hands did however 'helpfully' find their way to her slim waist, keeping her from losing her balance, but she merely growled at him in his face, pulling herself loose from his grip.

He twisted in his seat, practically leaning his entire upper body over the armrest, his gaze following her retreating form as she made her way down the aisle. No man on the planet would _not_ appreciate the way her tightly fitting jeans cupped her ass. Probably some of the women did, too.

"By the way," he called out to her as she'd made it halfway down, "_I'm_ not showing myself in public with you wearing those jeans."

Cuddy swiveled around and looked down at herself.

"What the hell is wrong with my jeans?" she hissed at him, walking back to him as if that would actually stop him from yelling all over the cabin.

"Oh, nothing for a young, healthy man like myself," he said with more than just a slight hint of sarcasm to his voice as she came closer, "but I'm _not_ taking the blame when you cause some poor old guy to have a heart attack."

She squinted her eyes at him. "Was that just some sort of weird back handed compliment?"

"I plead the fifth." He paused. "I suppose if the tanker truck size flips your goat it ain't too bad."

"Super tanker," she corrected him before catching herself. "Whatever." She shook her head at him. "I was wondering when you'd get around to ogling my ass."

"Hey now, don't blame me," he said, putting his hands up again. "I'm just an innocent spectator here. If you didn't want me ogling your ass, you wouldn't have worn those jeans." He said it as if his reasoning made perfect sense.

"I didn't know you'd be here! Besides," she added, almost as an afterthought, "I thought I told you to stop looking at my ass."

"You didn't mean it," he dared.

"Yes, I did," she shot back, turning her back to him again.

"No, you didn't. Hey, want me to join you in the bathroom? I could introduce you to the mile high club."

He was smiling innocently at her as she threw a look at him over her shoulder, and the secretive smile on her face was anything _but_ innocent. "What makes you think I need an introduction?"

He had to hand it to her. Two to nothing for Cuddy. He definitely had to up his game.

"And I _did_ mean it."

She turned a final time and walked away, and he would have had to have been blind not to notice the extra swagger in her step. He swore he could almost see the smirk on her face.

He laughed to himself as she disappeared into the tiny bathroom. "No, you didn't."

TBC.


End file.
